Q&A: Shiro Muchiri
The creative director of SoShiro on working amid the chaos, considering the social impact of objects, and rescuing traditional crafts from the realm of the museum
Interview: Emily Jupp
Housed within a beautiful five-storey Georgian townhouse on Welbeck Street is SoShiro, a pioneering atelier introducing designs by Shiro Muchiri, the gallery’s creative director, which blend Italian craftsmanship with the rare crafting traditions of indigenous groups and craftspeople from around the globe. By bringing these time-honed techniques alive in beautiful yet practical objects, Shiro aspires to give longevity to these crafts and bring the stories of the people who make them to a wider audience.
This global outlook reflects Shiro’s own life. Born and brought up in Kenya, Shiro studied interior architecture in Milan before going on to study at University for the Creative Arts in Farnham and then the London School of Economics. In 2000, she set up her architecture practice, serving international clients with multi-million-dollar projects.
The SoShiro gallery, her latest venture, was established in late 2019. Not just a gallery, it also functions as a space in which to host collectors and artists and facilitate new artistic synergies. During this year’s London Craft Week it was even used to present Japanese sake tastings alongside the new exhibitions. The two current exhibitions are called Pok, made with the Pokot women of Kenya, and Ainu, a collaboration with Toru Kaizawa, an artist with roots in the ancient Ainu culture of northern Japan.
Shiro says the best things she learnt on her interior architecture course were “light” and “ergonomics” and you see her skill in both in this space.
So, Shiro, why Marylebone? Why London?
The main reason is it’s a dynamic city, people from all over the world make it their home. I zeroed into Marylebone because it’s so outward-looking and has great energy.
Marsupia cloak, from the Pok collection
Did Brexit make you wobble in that belief?
Well, London voted to remain, so that was comforting. Brexit and the pandemic have been a big part of what we are—I actually don’t know what it’s like to operate under normal, secure circumstances. I never tasted that stability. All I know is complete chaos. But I always think, even though it has been tough, I still have those memories of learning about the Pokot women, working with Toro, our last dinner in Hokkaido. Whatever happens, all of those things make it worth it.
How will you cope when things eventually settle down?
Maybe I’ll be really bored! I won’t have to keep changing things around. But people being a bit less worried will be much better. Hopefully with a vaccine, that will come. I doubt everything will go back to normal, though. People have realigned their thinking and discovered how nice it can be to work away from the office.
Do you think that change will be reflected in our homes?
I hope so. Here, our message is to live in a way where you think about the social impact of the items you use, not just from an ecological perspective but also from the perspective of who created it. It is about having a different aesthetic. And taking your time. It shouldn’t bother you even if you move house and one room is empty—do it slowly, spend time selecting the pieces you want to put in there, and grow with it.
How else will the pandemic change interiors?
I think people will want pieces that speak to them and move with them from home to home. Small, versatile pieces that they love. I’m also hearing more people want more outdoor space and big, plush bathrooms. I think we won’t take gardens for granted any more—they will become more a part of our home rather than a separate space. It will be more about nurturing your existence in your home, and that means we will instinctively gravitate towards natural materials and textures.
Pok is your first collection, created with Pokot women in northern Kenya. Tell us more about the traditional Pokot necklace that forms a motif for the collection.
London Craft Week was fortunately an opportunity where we could reach out and share Pok with the community and that was a really good experience. The necklaces worn by the Pokot women are quite uncomfortable, but they will even wear them when they sleep because they are very proud of them. They denote their status in the community. The beading is very difficult to collect, especially the black beads. The Pokot create this detailed beadwork that adorns everything from their clothes to baby bottles—but the necklaces are their most prized possession. We try to stretch the aesthetic in all different ways: there is a three-legged stool and table on which we have these marble beads. They are a very small size, which is quite tricky to achieve by hand. But each grain of marble tells a story—it’s an alive material. It emulates the ornamentation of the Pokot beads. We also have a butler [a type of sideboard or console] which features beading made in Kenya. We are interested in synergies, so we used their beading and combined it with an Italian studio who worked on the butler. The Italians were quite amazed by the quality of the beadwork, and the women in Kenya were impressed by the Italian leather because it is much more consistent than what they are used to.
Among the Pok objects, there is a garment—a cloak. What’s the story there?
We are calling this cloak ‘Marsupia’. It is a hybrid between a throw and a cloak. When you wear a cloak your hands are always occupied and you are trying to juggle, so why not have these giant pockets? You can put a book in there and go on your way. When I went to the factory where they make this, it smelt like a farm; it’s made of camel wool. The beading on the pocket is like the Pokot women’s necklace.
Jar and vase, from the Ainu collection
Your second collection is Ainu, made in collaboration with Toru Kaizawa, who was also featured in London Craft Week. He is one of only a handful of people practicing Ainu art. What was it like to work with him?
Toru said he didn’t want his work just to be in a museum; he wanted his work to be in homes where it could be lived with. That made me know we should collaborate. It was a huge learning opportunity for us. The collection is inspired by the Ainu of Hokkaido, the indigenous people of Japan, and reflects their connection to nature. They wanted a distinct recognition as a people; they have their own language, craft and food that is different from the rest of Japan. Wood is considered an almost sacred material to them, and their interaction with it is very natural. They use this intricate fishscale technique on the wood that no-one else knows how to create. The skill is impressive and the work is very calming.
The carved kimono in the collection is made from atni, a kind of elm and it was based on a design by Toru’s grandmother, Hagi, held in a museum in Hokkaido. The flexible belt is called a ‘tumus’ and it’s made from one single piece of wood. If you feel the hands, they have a lifelike feel. The light above it is my design, based on an owl called a Blakiston fish owl, believed to protect the Ainu culture.
The ceramics and porcelain based on the owl design in this collection obviously have roots in this very ancient culture, yet the pieces also seem very fresh and modern. They would work in a contemporary home.
Yes. There was a Japanese lady who came to see this whose father had made a documentary about the Ainu. She said: “I was expecting to see bears and wooden totems but it’s wonderful to see this work in a contemporary setting.” I was shocked because when you explore different cultures that aren’t yours, you don’t want to do the wrong thing and you have to be careful how you do it, so to hear that was very comforting. After that I thought, yes, we’ve got a sort of formula that really works.